Page 10 of Free

He's so deep like this. He feels so fucking good inside me.

I come just from that. From a little grinding and foreplay. I coat his belly in my essence, my cock completely untouched.

“Fuck, Remi. Fuck,” he growls. Then he uses his mouth to silence my whimpers.

It’s perfect.

But I want more.

I spare a brief thought to wonder if it's this good with us alone, how unbelievable will it be with Julia, then it's gone with a flex of Justin’s cock.

I lift my hips and drop back down, and the impact bursts inside me. Stars explode behind my eyes, and my entire being swells until my skin can no longer contain it. On my next uplift, Justin grips my hips and holds me when I slam back down. The time after that, he plants his heels into the mattress and thrusts while I drive down, so we meet in the middle in a cascade of lips and limbs and cocks.

Over and over, it goes until we lose our grips from the sweat coating our bodies. Until our careful rhythm is reduced to frantic thrashing and grunts. Someone is chanting “I love you” in time with our breathing, and it takes me much too long to realize it’s me.

I forget who I am outside of Justin, and it’s the most perfect feeling in the world.

I must come a second time, but I’m not sure I can tell when. I do know when Justin finally surrenders to his own orgasm. He holds me so tight and thrusts so deep, and his body shatters beneath me. He roars like a lion, body jerking with spasms. It’s a struggle to function. To think. To breathe.

“Fuck I missed you,” he mumbles.

Neither of us is exactly coherent.

All of my considerable weight is pressing against him. My forehead is drooping weakly onto his neck. “Missed you too.”

God did I.

“Missed this.”

I’m boneless when he gently tips us over, pulling from my body and leaving me panting on my side. I’m rewarded with the vision of his perfect ass stumbling towards the bathroom. His legs are as wobbly as I feel. He returns with a damp washcloth and runs it over his body before doing the same to me. Then he throws it in the direction of the hamper and crawls back into bed beside me.

“Welcome home,” he whispers.

“What now?” I ask when my breathing finally returns to normal. Justin trails his fingers over my back before dropping a kiss on my forehead.

“Now we wait for Julia.”

3

JUSTIN

“Stop freaking out,” I order Remi.

The look he gives me could peel the paint from the ceiling.

“In all the years you’ve known me,” he says with an extremely dry tone, “have those words ever helped the situation, Justin?”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

No.

They haven’t.

Freaking out is what Remi does. It’s his baseline emotion.

Hewaspacing the living room.

As it’s crested four o’clock, however, he’s planted himself on the edge of the couch, rocking and tightening his hands into fists. I talked him out of wearing a suit or one of those boring button-up t-shirts he’s got. Instead, he’s in joggers and a henley, and he looks like he belongs here.